


The Repercussions of Extinction

by Artm2



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artm2/pseuds/Artm2
Summary: An AU look at the episode "Extinction" from Season Three. Written in response to the August AU Challenge at the Delphic Expanse. What would happen if there was one more scene with Archer and Sato on the planet, something that changes the rest of the story





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to EntAllat for wielding the red pen. The insight received made my fledgling idea a much richer story.
> 
> Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise and its characters are copyright CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the authors of this site, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit.

The events of the episode Extinction happen exactly as played out on the screen. But what would happen if there was one additional scene we weren't shown. A time when Archer and Sato are alone… what happens then? And what happens next?

Day 264

Hoshi laid her hand against the side of the incubator. The blue glow of the synthetic amniotic fluid bathed her anxious face as she sat peering in. Was he developing as he should? Was everything all right? The time was fast approaching when the little one would be ready, and then he would be gone. How am I going to handle this? Sighing, her head sank until her forehead rested against the side of the incubator, the rest of sickbay quietly beeping and burbling in the gamma shift hush. Tears formed and she started to cry.

Captain Jonathan Archer sat on his bed, leaning back against the bulkhead, a water polo ball in his hand. Restlessly he threw the ball against the opposing bulkhead and caught it on the rebound. Again and again he did this, but the repetitive rhythm did nothing to stem the tidal wave of conflicting emotions that washed over him. It had been like this every evening since the whole ordeal had started. He wondered if it would ever get any better.

Phlox sat back with a sigh. He had gone over and over the read-outs and reports. Technically, his fellow crewmembers were fine and would never suffer any side effects from their unusual transformation. At least they weren't going to suffer any physical side effects. As to their emotional states, he could only guess.

T'Pol handled everything that had happened with her usual aplomb. She would be fine. Lieutenant Reed had been rattled by his transformation and near death experience although he had tried hard to hide it. Phlox had already treated him on a number of occasions for sleeplessness and tension headaches, but the doctor knew that, eventually, the armory officer would make his peace with the experience. It was the captain and the communications officer Phlox was most worried about. How they would recover from this ongoing experience he could only guess.

Day 2

Phlox had waited until Captain Archer had dealt with the alien race bent on exterminating the Loque'eque. It was only then, once Enterprise was safe, that the captain would be able to focus on the news Phlox had for him.

"But I'm feeling fine and almost done transforming back," the captain had started to say as he strode back into sickbay, the doors whooshing closed behind him.

"Yes, I am well aware of that, captain. There was something else I wanted to speak with you about," Phlox answered as he gestured to a figure on the bed.

Ensign Sato lay there, sedated, still fully Loque'eque. The captain looked startled. "Why haven't you given her the antidote? Is something wrong?" he asked, concern spreading across his face.

Phlox paused as he locked the doors for privacy, then spoke. "Perhaps you'd better sit down."

Captain Archer had been quiet, then upset, then remorseful as Phlox had explained the situation. Of course Jon remembered the event in question, but the antidote had made him feel detached from those memories, almost as if they had happened to someone else. He hadn't really had the time, once he returned to Enterprise, to think about his actions on the surface; he had had to stave off an attack from the alien extermination team. But now, as he sat there staring at the creature that was Hoshi, he had nothing but time. Why did it have to happen like this? What should I do? What would she want me to do?

Phlox had given him several options. One was unthinkable; another would condemn Hoshi to staying as she was now for at least a year, and by that point the antidote might not work. She might never recover. The last option was risky, but then Hoshi would at least be herself again.

Jon sat by Hoshi's side long into the night, agonizing and debating. He knew that none of the options were good. He knew what he wanted, and it wasn't possible to turn back time, or alter reality. It was a matter of choosing the least of the evils and trying to figure out what Hoshi would want him to do.

Coming to a decision, he asked Phlox to perform the surgery and then give Hoshi the antidote. Jon knew he would have to deal with the repercussions for a long time to come; repercussions from Starfleet, from Hoshi, and from himself.

Day 3

Back in his Ready Room, Archer spoke with Admiral Forrest and laid out the entire situation and his decision. He waited for the backlash, but was surprised when Forrest simply said he'd talk to the powers that be and then signed off. Jon tried to get his mind focused on something else. He knew he'd have a wait on this.

When all was said and done, Jon was shocked. Where he had expected a reprimand, he had received praise for his thinking. Where he was expecting obstacles, he received help. Jon never found out whom it was that was going to make everything happen, but he was grateful. Admiral Forrest had gotten back to him rather quickly with startling news. Starfleet was not only going support his decision, but make a home for the new little one.

Archer wasn't sure how they'd wrangled this with Earth's human rights organizations, but the order had indicated Starfleet had asked for volunteers from a newly formed world prison in New Zealand to colonize the planet of Loque'eque, as Loque'eque. He had been surprised at the number of inmates that had stepped forward to live their lives as an alien species versus serving out their sentences as humans: once their colony ship reached orbit around the planet they would be exposed to the live virus and become Loque'eque. The little one, his and Hoshi's child, would be adopted by a couple there.

Their human genes had allowed them to do what the original Loque'eque could not.

Reproduce.

Day 100

He had tried to talk to her about what had happened. He had been trying for months, but short of ordering her to talk to him, Hoshi made a point of never being alone with him. Every time he saw her off duty she was with someone. Travis was her workout partner, T'Pol sat next to her at movie nights, and every meal was eaten with Phlox, Cutler, or Malcolm.

It was the last person that bothered him the most. Shortly after the surgery Jon had tracked Hoshi down in the mess hall late one night. He had been trying to talk to her for a week with no success. Why had she turned to him and not me? The memory made his stomach knot.

Day 8

The doors to the mess hall whooshed open. It was quiet and dim, serving hours were long over. Jon walked in and headed over to the table in the corner. T'Pol had mentioned that she had seen Hoshi in there earlier. Hoshi was still here, but she wasn't alone. Hoshi and Malcolm were deep in a hushed conversation. He could hear the pain in Hoshi's voice, the consolation in Malcolm's.

He slowed his stride, hesitant to start any conversation about what had happened in front of anyone, especially Malcolm.

Since their shared experiences on the planet, Jon had been aware of Malcolm's feelings for Hoshi. He was wondering why Malcolm was making a play for her now, but he couldn't hold those feelings against the man. After all, Jon had felt something for Hoshi for years. He just wished Malcolm would stop being so damn solicitous to Hoshi. Maybe then, Jon would have a chance of speaking to her.

Despite his own feelings of jealousy, he could understand how his tactical officer would fall for someone as full of life as Hoshi was. At least, she had been, until the Loque'eque. She still wasn't fully recovered, none of them were. They were all still suffering from after-effects of being Loque'eque, both physical and mental. All of them still had an extreme sense of smell, all of them still felt raw from being part of a dying race. But Jon knew that wasn't the entirety of what troubled Hoshi.

It wasn't until the recent incident that he himself had sat down and started to really examine his feelings and actions. He hadn't just wanted the best linguist on the planet for his communications officer, he had wanted her. It had simply been convenient that they were one and the same. He had justified it then, but no longer. He needed to tell her this, and many other things, if she would only let him.

He stopped at the side of the table. He could sense her sorrow, her denial, her attraction. He understood the first two things he smelled, but not the last. Who was she attracted to, him or Malcolm? His own despair cut into him, sliding like an icy knife.

"Hoshi?" Jon's voice was low and pleading.

She turned away, swiping at her eyes. Anger rolled off of her in waves, almost knocking him over in their intensity.

Anger at me? At herself? At the cruel twist of events? He couldn't decide. Smell was only taking him so far in this conversation.

He stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We need to talk."

Standing, she shook it off and walked to the bulkhead, staring out the port hole.

When he moved again to go to her, Malcolm was out of his chair and in his way in a heartbeat. Well, there had been a reason for offering the tactical position to him.

Inhaling deeply and searching for some patience, Jon could sense the man's fear and determination, but also a sense of protection.

"Malcolm, this doesn't concern you." Jon said.

Malcolm didn't move. "No, it doesn't."

Jon moved to go around him and was blocked again by the smaller man. Despite what Jon was sensing through his still heightened sense of smell, his eyes were seeing Malcolm radiated the deadly calm he was known for; the calm before an attack.

"I think you'd better leave…sir."

Steely blue eyes met green in a test of wills. Jon decided now was not the time to pull rank on either of them. It would do him no good. He didn't want to throw Malcolm in the brig for insubordination. That would draw too much attention to a situation he was already trying to keep quiet. He knew Hoshi well enough to know that even under orders she wouldn't talk unless she wanted to.

"When you're ready, I'd like to talk," he said over Malcolm's shoulder and then turned to go. He kept his back straight until the doors behind him closed. It was only then that he allowed his façade to fade for a moment, disappointment and hurt on his face.

Day 15

After another week of playing "cat and mouse" with each other while off duty, Archer was more frustrated than he had ever been. He called T'Pol into his ready room.

"Has Hoshi said anything to you?" he asked.

T'Pol stood before his desk, hands clasped behind her. She shifted her weight before she answered.

"Yes, she has said many things to me during the shift today. Did you not hear us speaking?"

Jon exhaled forcefully, frustrated, and came to his feet. "No, I mean, has she said anything to you about the…the incident down on the planet."

T'Pol regarded him with large, serene eyes. "Have you talked to her yourself?"

"Yes, I've tried and tried again. She won't talk to me. Not about the planet, not about what happened, not about…not about the baby. Nothing." Jon turned to look out the porthole.

"Will talking about it improve the situation?"

"We're human. Maybe Vulcans can keep all this bottled up, but not us. I know she's upset. I'm upset. We need to talk."

T'Pol stepped forward and stood beside him. "Perhaps there is simply nothing to say?"

When he turned to look at her, he caught the barest whiff of pity from her. It startled him. Apparently he was still Loque'eque enough to sense more than T'Pol was sharing.

He bowed his head, "But we have a…and we…" he trailed off into silence. Pulling himself back together, he looked at her. "T'Pol, this is a situation when humans would absolutely need to talk."

"Perhaps you should go see Dr. Phlox. He is a good listener. Or take some time for a strenuous workout in the gym. I know that this always seems to help Commander Tucker when he is… emotional."

Jon sighed; he knew that T'Pol was trying to help. He also knew that any solution short of hashing this out with Hoshi would be futile.

"Thanks T'Pol. Dismissed."

The Vulcan inclined her head in a brief nod, her eyes conveying all that her face would not.

Jon turned to look back out the porthole. In the reflection he saw T'Pol turn to go. She paused on the threshold.

"Have you considered she may have moved past this experience and is continuing on with her life?" she said softly and walked out the door.

After the incident in the mess hall and T'Pol's advice, Jon resigned himself to the status quo. He and Hoshi never spoke about what had happened between them down there, nor about the growing child in sickbay. She continued to perform her duties as if the whole mission had never happened, but he could tell that it was bothering her. He had known her too long to not see that her veneer wasn't perfect. But nevertheless, he stopped trying to engage her in conversation she didn't want; he didn't want to upset her further. It wasn't important how he felt. He'd deal with it.

Day 30

He visited the baby every night, timing his visits after her's. The first time he had actually run into her coming around the corner. He had reached out to steady her, and she had jerked away, as if burned by his touch. After seeing how upset she had been it had just seemed like a better idea not to be seen. She already didn't speak to him outside of her shift. It was clear she didn't even want to be around him.

While he was there he would sit for hours, talking to it… to him… to Seth, long into the night. Jon couldn't help but name the baby, if only in his mind.

Day 250

One night Trip had come to his door, a bottle and two glasses in hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Trip asked.

At this point Jon really didn't want to, but he knew he still needed to get it all off his chest. It was starting to affect his work. Inviting Trip in, they sat in companionable silence for a long time, as shot after shot went down his throat. If he was going to drink to make the emotions stop, he might as well go whole hog.

Finally Jon broke the silence. "Did you know that the Loque'eque communicate not only through clicks but also through scent?" he asked Trip rhetorically.

Trip merely nodded.

"I remember how everything smelled, so vivid and bright. Everything was so alive. It was like I was waking up after a long sleep to a beautiful sunrise," Jon said and poured himself another shot.

Leaning back in his chair, he held the glass up to the light. "I remember that T'Pol smelled like cinnamon, warm, and inviting…like coming into someone's home in the autumn when they've been baking a pie. But I could also tell she was afraid," Jon smiled and took a sip of his shot. "Imagine, T'Pol being afraid of anything."

Trip remained silent, allowing Jon to muse on.

"When Hoshi came beside me I could smell her, jasmine, verbena, and something else I couldn't identify… and the smell was so intoxicating… so overwhelming…it was almost like I could read her mind and knew her entire history right there in the scent of her. I could smell…" Jon trailed off and smiled sadly into his glass.

He downed the rest of his shot and tried to pour himself another, sloshing the pale amber liquid onto his hand, missing the glass completely.

Trip gently took the bottle from him and poured them both another drink.

Jon nodded his thanks, leaning back against the chair back. They drank again in silence.

"Did you know that Malcolm wants her?" he asked suddenly.

"Who? T'Pol?"

"No, Hoshi."

Trip's eyebrows went up.

"That's right. I could smell it on him, the desire, almost animal lust, and I remember wanting to rip him limb from limb."

"Why?"

Jon slammed his empty glass down. "Because she is MINE… was mine…there was that time in Brazil when I thought…" his head was bowed. "I've always looked at her like that… but it would be inappropriate…Starfleet would never allow…I never thought that she would think of me like that." his voice becoming softer and softer. "But then when we were Loque'eque, and I could smell her emotions…her thoughts… and she could smell what I felt, what I was thinking…"

He tapped his glass with an outstretched finger and Trip poured another shot for him.

"When we found the city and were in hiding…we were down there for a long time. Things just happened…I never intended to follow through with what I discovered while on the surface, but things…just happened. I was so elated… she felt for me as I did for her…and now… the baby… she's so upset…she's never gonna forgive me…I should've been stronger…she won't even talk to me… she's always with Malcolm…"

Jon swirled his drink in the glass contemplating. He looked up and spoke again, repeating himself, his words slightly slurred, but a look of clarity on his face.

"And now… with everything that has happened… she won't talk to me… but she talks to him…why?" Jon asked.

Trip didn't answer.

"You talk to Malcolm…what's he after? Is he trying to take advantage of her… with how she's feeling?" Jon demanded.

Trip swallowed before replying. "I'm sure it's nothing like that. They were sociable before this happened."

"I know… but they're always eating dinner together now… he's even gotten her to laugh! You know Malcolm couldn't tell a joke to save his life! Why isn't she turning to me? I want to be there for her…I'd like her to be here for…never mind…I'm the captain…I'm not supposed to need…" Jon downed the rest of his shot and threw it against the opposite bulkhead, angry at himself, at her lack of response to him, at the entire situation.

Trip had flinched, but said nothing.

Jon inhaled and regained control of himself, then reached for Trip's still full glass.

Trip's hand tightened around it, trying to cut him off. "I think you've had enough."

Jon reached for the bottle, a shot or two still lingering inside it. Trip shrugged.

"In for a penny… in for a pound…" Jon muttered, before downing the rest of the alcohol. He set the bottle back down with exaggerated care.

"And now I have a son…I had always dreamt that someday, when we were both done with Starfleet, maybe Hoshi would… and we…but not like this…and now…now…"

Jon trailed off, his eyes slowly closing as he gave in to the exhaustion that came from carrying this emotional burden for so long. Trip gently took the bottle and remaining glass from the table.

"You're gonna have one hell of a hangover," Trip murmured.

Jon felt a blanket being put over his shoulders but his eyes were too heavy to open. His thoughts were growing even more sluggish. All he could think about was Hoshi sitting with Malcolm and laughing. The echoes of her laughter followed him into his dreams to torment him for the rest of the night.

Day 364

Hoshi and Jon had both been present at the baby's birth. Phlox had removed the infant from the warm amniotic fluid in the artificial womb and expected the child to start to cry as most did. This one did not. Even when Phlox had suctioned the remaining fluid from the baby's lungs and swatted him to get him breathing, he was silent. It was slightly unnerving. Phlox had handed the solemn, blinking infant to Hoshi wrapped snuggly in a blanket. The baby's nostrils flared, taking in the scent of her. She curled her arms protectively around the bundle and started to click, speaking softly in the language of the Loque'eque. Phlox cleaned up from the procedure and left to give them privacy.

"I didn't know you remembered how to speak Loque'eque," Archer murmured in the hush of sickbay. It was one of the few times they had been alone since this had begun. It was the first time they had spoken about anything not purely professional in months.

"How could I ever forget?" she whispered back, her eyes still glued to the alien baby in her arms.

"Could you teach me to say a few words to our son?" he asked her.

Hoshi's eyes snapped to him, wide, tears forming. She nodded once, and then went back to ignoring everything but the baby.

At that one nod the knot in his stomach that had been there for many months, the fear, the anguish, the guilt, loosened slightly. Moving in closer to her, his hand crept to her back as he gazed at the child in her arms. She didn't move away. The knot loosened a bit more and for a moment he felt peace.

Day 366

They had rendezvoused with the new colonists at the site of the destroyed city Urquat, now well on its way to being reconstructed and livable. Captain Archer and Ensign Sato along with T'Pol and Lieutenant Reed were the only ones to come down to the planet, all having been inoculated from the virus and now immune.

Malcolm and T'Pol hung back to give Jon and Hoshi some much needed privacy as the two parents walked forward to hand the baby over. Hoshi was carrying the bundle and whispering rapidly to it, telling it all the things she wanted to convey before she handed her child over to a new life, knowing that he would remember none of it, but needing to tell him just the same. Jon walked by her side, grim and silent. A waiting couple stood at the entrance of the cave system.

Hoshi stopped before them, kissed the infant once on the forehead, and then handed the baby to Jon. Turning, she walked off, tears starting to form, her hand pressed to her mouth holding back a sob, a broken heart apparent on her face.

He held the infant close in his arms and bent over it to kiss its forehead as well, breathing in the smell of his child for the last time. In Loque'eque, as Hoshi had taught him, he whispered, "I love you," and then handed his child to the strangers.

Walking away was the hardest thing he had ever done. He knew he was leaving a part of himself behind. More than anything he wanted to stay and be the father for his child. But he knew his duty, to Starfleet, to Enterprise, and to Hoshi. She needed him, whether she would admit it or not. He couldn't be there for their child, but he could be there for her. Maybe someday they could move past this, both alone, and together. Maybe someday something more could be between them. He clung to this hope. It was the only thing he could do.


	2. The Rest of the Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains non-graphic non-consensual sexual violence.
> 
> The opinions expressed are NOT the opinions of the beta or this website. These opinions belong solely to the characters in respect to this story. The author is making no moral or political statements in the writing of this work of fiction.
> 
> This chapter is from Hoshi's POV

Day 264

Hoshi laid her hand against the side of the incubator. The blue glow of the synthetic amniotic fluid bathed her anxious face as she sat peering in. Was he developing as he should? Was everything all right? The time was fast approaching when the little one would be ready, and then he would be gone. How am I going to handle this? Sighing, her head sank until her forehead rested against the side of the incubator, the rest of sickbay quietly beeping and burbling in the gamma shift hush.

T'Pol had suggested talking to Jon, telling him what was truly at the heart of all her sorrow. What was happening now was heartbreaking, and she was devastated by it, but it was a time long before all this that was making everything worse. Hoshi realized that a part of her was scared to speak to Jon, for fear of his reaction. Logically, she knew that he would be nothing but supportive, but she was anxious nonetheless.

The baby shifted in the tank, capturing her attention again. He turned to face her, his little alien face picture perfect, and he started to suck his thumb. Tears formed and she started to cry.

Day 3

Ensign Hoshi Sato awoke, groggy, unsure of her whereabouts, the overhead lights making everything blurry. Moaning, she tried to sit up, but hands were there, steadying her, laying her back down. Voices were soothing her and she faded back into the black.

When she awoke again she became aware of the beeping and burbling of sickbay. Why am I here? Slowly opening her eyes, she saw the captain sitting beside her bed, his head in his hands. Shifting to get a better look at him, she became aware of a deep pain in her abdomen. She moaned and his head snapped up. He looked haggard.

Licking her lips, her mouth dry and pasty, she croaked, "What am I doing here, sir?"

The captain looked up, his face grim, and took her hand in his. His voice sounded as hoarse as hers. "Hoshi, there's something I need to tell you."

Phlox stood at her bedside. He spoke to her but she was having difficulty staying focused. Her thoughts were elsewhere, on a different time, where she had been told something very similar to what Phlox was now saying.

"There should be no problem when and if you should have more children. There were no complications from the surgery." He paused and looked serious, his normally cheerful demeanor gone. "I do have a question, however. It appears that your body has been in this state before. Nothing was on your file… May I ask…"

He left the sentence hanging, waiting for her response.

Hoshi slowly turned her head to look at him, weighing what she would say. Now that Phlox knew her secret, he wouldn't let go until he had the details. He genuinely cared about his patients. They were his friends, his family.

"Phlox, there's a reason that there is nothing in my file about this." She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and laying back. After a moment, she continued, her eyes still closed. "I am the best that Earth has to offer, show me a new language and I can have it translated into English in a few short minutes. Computer binary is no different than any other language. Not only did Starfleet sign on the best linguist in the world, but one of the best computer hackers. What you're looking for in my file, I removed a long time ago."

Phlox shifted, "I see." He waited for more, looking at her expectantly.

Hoshi spoke again, her voice weary. "I'll give you the file with the details, but I don't want to discuss it. It was a long time ago and it's over. I'm fine now and that's all that matters." She sighed and turned her head away.

Phlox stood there for a long moment, his expression saddening as realization dawned. Knowing she wasn't nearly as fine as she claimed to be, but not wanting to press her at the present, he nodded to himself and left her alone to her thoughts.

Day 8

Much later, when she was alone, she cried.

She lay in bed, curled around her pillow, trying to stifle her sobs.

She couldn't believe what had happened to her, but it had. She had dim memories of their one night together in the ruined city of Urquat, but it didn't make the reality of the situation any easier to understand, and it certainly didn't make it any easier to bear.

She remembered being on the planet and being Loque'eque. It had been thrilling and terrifying and liberating all at once. For once, she had known exactly what everyone around her thought and felt without having to employ any of her communications skills. Communicating had been so easy when everything had been laid bare like that.

Sniffing, she choked back her tears and gazed out the window, watching the stars stream by.

She remembered that T'Pol had been frightened by the experience of losing control over herself. She remembered the lust that had rolled off of Malcolm, and that, surprisingly, it had been directed towards her. The last scuttlebutt she had heard was that the armory officer was head over heels for T'Pol, but maybe that had been just an appreciation for T'Pol's considerable physical assets.

Lastly, she remembered being with the captain, with Jon, and that everything that she had ever hoped for, that she had ever dreamed of, was true.

Sniffing again, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Stepping into the steaming water, she closed her eyes, her head leaning back against the wall, Jon's face in her mind.

She could not conceal her desire or her deep affection for the man she had longed after for so many years. The Loque'eque had a very open society, they could hide nothing from one another; it made life so simple, with no pretense. There had been nothing that Jon could hide from her, and the memory of that, what he felt for her, warmed her still. His feelings for her were a mirror image of her feelings for him.

Being in danger, being chased, almost losing their lives had helped push them over the edge, into a place that their lingering humanity told them they shouldn't go. But then, they had thought there was no hope of ever returning to their humanity, to their former lives. Why not take what small pleasure they could before everything ended?

He had asked, and she had eagerly assented.

Hoshi's eyes snapped open and she washed vigorously, trying to forget the images that continued to call out to her.

It was only now that Hoshi was fully human, back on board Enterprise, with the repercussions of their momentary lapse of reason fully in front of her, that she was repentant. Her lack of judgment meant that her child, their child, would grow up without her. The very fact that this child existed was an issue. The first child of the Loque'eque in millennia, in a race that had been doomed, would now be an orphan.

Starfleet had taken care of that part at least. But the fact that her child would at least have parents was of little consolation to her. The home that her child, their child, would have, would never be with them.

Stepping out of the shower, she dried and changed, self-loathing making her throw the towel at the wall.

There was also the fact that she couldn't look Jon in the face. Day after day she had to work with him, yet she couldn't come to terms with the fact that her actions had caused this entire incident to happen. What if she had said no? Thousands of inmates on Earth would be serving out their sentences as humans instead of being transformed into Loque'eque. And her child, their child, would not exist.

Her 'yes' might also have cost him his career. While Starfleet had been surprisingly generous with them both at this moment, this incident could be used against him at a future time. Fraternization was strictly against protocol. She knew how much being captain of the Enterprise meant to him; it was one of the prime reasons she had never been open with her feelings before. To what end? His life was Enterprise. After a lifetime of striving to make Enterprise a reality, could he set that aside to explore his feelings for her? She just didn't know.

She brushed out her hair, anger making the strokes short and swift.

She also struggled with the fact that he had made this decision about their child without her. Deep inside she knew that there had been nothing else he could have done. By the time she and the captain had been brought on board as Loque'eque nothing of their humanity had remained. If he had tried to ask her opinion, she would have been compelled by the virus to escape back to the surface.

What would she have done?

She had wrestled with that question every day since she awoke in sickbay, but she doubted that she'd ever have an answer, just like the last time.

Walking to the shelf, she took down her photo album and opened it. She flipped to a page with a photo of a younger, smiling Hoshi. A fourteen-year-old Hoshi, an innocence about her, stood in front of the university library. Frowning down at the photo, she felt tears come again. She fingered the edge of the photo, feeling what lay beneath it between the photo and the page.

This was the second time that a child had been taken from her.

Wiping the tears from her face, she gently closed the album and placed it back on the shelf. She needed to leave her quarters and get some fresh air. She had been thinking in circles for far too long and getting nowhere. Perhaps something from the mess hall would be good. It was so late that no one should be there, which was perfect. She really didn't want company right now.

"May I join you?" An ever polite voice inquired from over her shoulder. She had been staring out at the stars, her tea long forgotten and cold. Wiping another tear from her face, she turned to find Malcolm standing a few paces away, looking thoughtful.

Closing her eyes, her still Loque'eque-heightened sense of smell brought to her the scent of his cologne, the smell of soap, a hint of something explosive, an aroma of concern, and of hope.

She hesitated for a moment, and then indicated the seat across from her. She hadn't wanted to have this conversation with him but it was better to get it over with now, rather than later.

She knew that Malcolm still had a heightened sense of smell too, and that he could smell her sorrow and her resignation.

There was no easy way to start this conversation.

"Malcolm, back on the planet…I'm... flattered, but you must know…" She trailed off, her words failing her, not sure where to go from there.

He reached across the table and took her hand in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. "Hoshi, I won't deny that I am embarrassed by what you learned while we were both Loque'eque, but with both of us serving on the same ship... well, it would have been inappropriate. If things had been different, maybe…" His eyes were anywhere but on her. She started to pull her hand away; he tightened his grip slightly, and continued. "But I also know how much the captain cares about you and you for him. It wouldn't be right if I interfered, especially with all things considered. I just wanted you to know that."

He released her hand and looked her straight in the eyes.

"I am still your friend and, as your friend, I will always be here to talk to. Although, you know how much I enjoy sharing my feelings," he said, with a little levity in his voice and a small twinkle in his eye.

A fleeting smile danced across her face and she took his hand back to give it a squeeze.

"Thank you Malcolm, I appreciate that, although the captain has never acted with anything other than complete professionalism, both in the past and now. Despite circumstances, there is nothing going on between the captain and I." she said, flushing slightly.

She turned and looked back out at the stars. Her eyes grew teary again. "We've both got to move past this…thing…this issue, and continue on with our lives."

The door whooshed open and they fell silent. The smell of cinnamon wafted in as T'Pol entered. She nodded to them, and ordered a hot tea. Collecting her drink, the Vulcan paused and regarded them. With T'Pol's normally heightened Vulcan sense of smell still altered by the Loque'eque DNA, Hoshi knew T'Pol understood everything that had transpired between Malcolm and her before she entered. Raising an eyebrow at them, T'Pol nodded once more and left them to their discussion.

Hoshi and Malcolm spoke of other things for a while, Malcolm valiantly trying to give her time to collect herself. She didn't think she had heard him speak about anything for this long, ever, and that included his phase cannons.

The door whooshed open again and again Hoshi knew who it was before they entered. The smell of fresh air and real water, soap with a touch of musk, and a hint of clean dog preceded the captain as he strode in, his eyes searching the room for her. She could smell his emotions from across the room and her body reacted without thinking. She still loved him, and knew she shouldn't, and that made her angry with herself. She was angry that Starfleet and Enterprise came between them. She was angry over the results of what happened on the planet, she was angry that he, with his still altered sense of smell and their friendship of many years, could still read her like a book, and she was angry at events in past that still haunted her.

Jon stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We need to talk."

Standing, she shook it off and walked to the bulkhead, staring out the porthole.

When Jon moved again to go to her, Malcolm was out of his chair and in his way in a heartbeat. Hoshi could smell Malcolm's concern, anger, and his protective instinct.

She inhaled deeply, trying to control herself. She knew Malcolm must be sensing her anger, but he was misinterpreting it. She was angry at herself, not Jon. She wanted to turn around and explain everything away but just couldn't muster the courage.

"Malcolm, this doesn't concern you," Jon said, determined to speak with her.

"No, it doesn't." Malcolm was cautious but resolute.

The scents of the emotions they carried wound around her head, threatening to suffocate her.

"I think you'd better leave…sir." A whiff of acrimony floated through the air.

She could smell Malcolm's dogged determination and Jon's irritation before his conciliation.

"When you're ready, I'd like to talk," he said over Malcolm's shoulder, and she heard him leave. Malcolm came up behind her, anxious to comfort her. She knew he was uncertain of what to say. She didn't have any words either.

Day 14

She sat in her quarters, a photo leaning against the screen in front of her. It was of a boy with almond shaped eyes and dark hair, his skin not quite like hers, his eyes bright blue. He was ten when the photo had been taken. She wasn't supposed to have this picture, but she had used all her hacking skills to obtain it before she left Earth. She wasn't sure why she had obtained it or secretly had it printed. In fact, she had only looked at it twice - the day she had stolen it and the day she had buried it behind the photo of her younger self in her album.

The memories she had worked so hard at suppressing came back in a rush. They twisted around in her brain like an opened can of worms. She wondered where he was now, her heart breaking anew over the 'might have beens'.

She would never get any peace this way. Leaving the photo propped up, she left her quarters in search of the one person on board that could help her repress these memories again.

The door in front of her whooshed open.

"I need to learn to meditate. Now."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow in question at Hoshi's terse greeting.

Hoshi inhaled deeply, trying to rein in her emotions. "Please. I need help."

T'Pol stepped aside and gestured Hoshi to come in.

"Have a seat."

After a long moment of staring at each other through the candle light T'Pol finally broke the silence. "Is there something that is bothering you?"

Hoshi inhaled slowly and closed her eyes. "Yes…no… yes."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow again at Hoshi's indecision.

"I believe I know what is troubling you. Perhaps speaking with the captain would be a better course of action for you to take this evening."

"No, this really has nothing to do with him or with the…situation at hand. I would like you to teach me meditation so I can repress some memories."

T'Pol frowned slightly, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply and was silent a moment.

Hoshi felt a moment of panic that she had insulted T'Pol in some way. In all the years they had served together Hoshi had rarely seen T'Pol angry.

"I see." T'Pol rose and indicated the door, calmness once more spread across her features.

"I don't believe I can help you. Meditation won't help you cease to think on whatever is troubling you. Meditation will only help you clarify and order your thoughts. "

Hoshi didn't rise. "T'Pol, there must be something you can teach me. Some sort of relaxation technique then?" Hoshi paused. Her eyes pleading, "When have I ever asked you for anything?" she asked, her voice soft.

T'Pol considered this. "If you want to learn to meditate, I can certainly teach you. But I still recommend that you find a crewmember that you can speak with. I understand that unburdening oneself is helpful to humans."

"I've never shared this issue, these memories with anyone before. It is… too traumatic."

T'Pol paused. She resumed her seated position and gazed into the candlelight once more. "Trauma has a way of coming back to inflict new pain if it is not dealt with properly the first time."

Hoshi glanced up; something in T'Pol's voice made her think that there was more to that statement.

"Oh?"

"I am only speaking in generalities."

"Were you?"

The tables had turned. T'Pol shifted, not quite covering over her own discomfort.

Hoshi continued. "I didn't think that Vulcans knew anything about such things as trauma. As a race you seem too peaceful to have such emotions."

"We have more violent emotions; most have learned to deal with them in an appropriate manner. Some, however, embrace it." T'Pol paused, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

Hoshi recalled some gossip she had heard about the group of Vulcans they had met several years ago while examining a nebula. They had left in a hurry and the captain had been furious about something, but no one was sure over what. T'Pol had seemed even more distant , and frail, for a while after that. It gave Hoshi pause, pondering what could have happened.

T'Pol continued eventually, breaking into Hoshi's thoughts. "But we were speaking about you and how you should seek out someone to share your burden with." She regarded Hoshi across the candle lit table and came to a decision.

"Would you care to share this incident with me?"

Hoshi looked up and smiled tentatively, unsure.

T'Pol's gaze softened, and Hoshi began to tell her story.

She had always been a prodigy. She entered high school by age ten, and went to college by age twelve. By fourteen she had completed her first year of graduate studies. By then, the university felt just as much like home as did where she lived with her parents. She, and her parents, felt safe and secure in Hoshi's surroundings. But they had been naïve.

She had been alone with one of her trusted professors, spending the evening deep in discussion and study, never suspecting what he truly was.

Despite her youth and lack of stature, she had fought. It hadn't been enough. Violent things had happened. She had been hurt, both physically and mentally.

A child had been conceived.

Her parents had been devastated for her. How could something like this have happened in such an enlightened age? How could those they had trusted with their child let them down like this? Why hadn't any of them realized that despite Hoshi's uncanny abilities she was still a child, not an adult capable of looking out for herself?

While her parents and college officials had all felt guilt over their lack of foresight, initially she had been numb. Then came the guilt. Had she done anything to provoke this? Once her injuries had healed the anger came, but she'd directed it all at herself. She had always excelled at everything, she felt should have been smarter than this. She turned inward, becoming more of an introvert then she already was.

Seeing the changes in their daughter, her already concerned parents went into motion. Things had been kept quiet. She went to live with her grandmother in Japan, in seclusion. They hoped this would allow her the time to heal.

In time, she came home, alone.

She didn't blame them. Her parents were trying to protect her. She had been a minor, just entering her teens. She had so much potential. He had been a closet pedophile who took advantage of the situation of such a young student. If the truth had been known, she'd had a girlish crush on the man, and he had violated the trust she had placed in him.

What potential was there for a child with a child? She could have raised the baby with the help of her family but a part of her knew that looking into the eyes of her child would be like looking into the eyes of her attacker.

She would not entertain the notion of ending the life of the child. It hadn't been the child's fault. Aside from placing her trust in the wrong person, it hadn't been her fault either. It had been all his doing. But she would not commit murder on top of everything else. It was one of the few things she insisted upon. Her parents had agreed, simply happy that Hoshi had shown an interest in anything at this point.

When her parents had suggested adoption, she agreed and let them make all the arrangements. She was too busy healing from her injuries, both physical and mental, to care much past the next moment in time.

Her parents had pressed charges and, in an effort to keep things quiet for her sake, an agreement had been reached by all parties with several conditions. The first was that he had been allowed a new life off planet with a colony transport heading for Alpha Centari. It would take him years to get there, his crime known to all on board, and he would have a hard life. The second condition was that he submit to a permanent chemical alteration, to keep him from ever again having the ability or the inclination to repeat his crimes. But it kept him out of jail, so he readily agreed to the terms. It kept everything a secret and allowed Hoshi a "fresh start", which made her parents happy for her sake. For the child, there was a home untainted by a beginning forged in violence. For Hoshi, there was only the forgetting.

Until now.

Until she was asked to give up yet another child.

"Will you be able to sleep now?"

Hoshi sighed deeply, coming out of her meditative trance, a feeling of calm washing over her. "I think so. I am going to deal with this… and lay it to rest. I have to. I can't change the past."

"That would be a wise course of action. Continuing on with your life is really all you can do."

Hoshi reached out to take T'Pol's hand, then thought better of it, knowing the Vulcan's dislike of casual contact.

The Vulcan gave her a slight smile, acknowledging the bond they now had. Sharing their pain and experiences with each other gave them a new understanding of the other's character.

As Hoshi walked back to her quarters she pondered how strong T'Pol was. She had turned a horrible experience into something that only served to make her grow as a person. Hoshi resolved to do the same for herself even if it took her the rest of her life. She would not bury these memories. She would learn from them and move on.

Entering her quarters she walked over to the photo still sitting where she had left it. Taking it, she smiled sadly at it, opened her album and placed it on its own page. Healing would take a long time and many steps. This was a good place to start.

Day 30

Hoshi left sickbay after spending hours sitting by the incubator, staring blindly at the child growing within. Despite meditating every night, she still examined and reexamined every detail from that past wound, questioning herself and all her actions.

Coming around the darkened corner, she ran headlong into a hard male body. A strong hand gripped her arm, triggering something better off forgotten.

She was leaving the Language department building later than usual. She hadn't intended to stay so late, but the discussion and study had been so stimulating that she had lost track of time. The halls were empty and her footsteps echoed in the dark. Coming around a corner a hand had reached out, clenching around her upper arm, jerking her off her feet. A hand had covered her mouth, stifling a scream.

She had begged, she had pleaded, and she had fought. In the end, none of that did any good. He had left her there, lying on the cold linoleum; her body battered, bruised, and violated, her spirit broken. His threats to remain quiet rang in her ears.

She jerked away, her instincts getting the better of her. Staring up, she saw it was Jon. She mentally cursed herself for allowing a moment of weakness. Embarrassed and upset, she said nothing and left him standing there alone in the corridor.

Day 364

She tried desperately to hold herself together as Phlox made the final preparations for delivering the baby. Closing her eyes and using a relaxation technique, she centered herself and tried to lock away a stray memory before it blossomed fully in her consciousness.

The birth had been long and difficult. She was tiny and the baby had been large. She lay limply, propped up in the bed, semi-conscious. One of the attending nurses didn't know that the baby should go straight to an adopting family and had placed the carefully wrapped infant into her weak arms. Looking down at his tiny pinched face she raised a finger and gently stroked one of his soft cheeks before the head nurse realized what had happened. In a moment the child was whisked out of her arms, out of the room, and into the arms of his new mother. Letting her head drop back against the pillow, a tear started to form and she sank gratefully into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she was alone in a private room. It would take weeks to recover and no one would speak to her about the child, her child. In some ways that was better.

Despite how the child had been conceived and that she knew all about the couple adopting the baby, something had changed inside Hoshi the first time she felt the baby kick. With every movement or hand or footprint against her side she became that much more attached to her unborn child. Letting go was harder then she had thought it would be. She spent the time trying to forget about the last months of her life. She needed to get over this.

When she returned home she threw herself into her studies, losing herself and her pain in the beauty of language.

Coming back to herself, a child was handed to her again, this one just as tiny and just as precious. Realizing that this time she had more than a heartbeat to memorize his every feature, she relaxed slightly. She began to coo to him in his native language.

"I didn't know you remembered how to speak Loque'eque," Jon murmured in the hush of sickbay. It was one of the few times they had been alone since this had begun. It was the first time they had spoken about anything not purely professional in months.

"How could I ever forget?" she whispered back, her eyes still glued to the alien baby in her arms.

"Could you teach me to say a few words to our son?" he asked her.

Hoshi's eyes snapped to him, wide, tears forming. She nodded once, and then looked back down at the baby. Her feelings overwhelmed her. She realized this was not like the last time, he was not a part of that, and he was not that man. She had shut Jon out, causing him even more pain in this difficult situation.

She felt a hand on her back and didn't move away. It felt good there. For a moment, she felt peace.

Day 366

They had two days with their child. It was more then she had ever hoped for. She knew that this was the only course of action but it didn't make it any easier. She had an obligation to stay with the crew of Enterprise, to continue on with their mission forging new friendships and alliances so that what happened with the Xindi would never happen again. While she could have left it all to raise this child, he deserved to be with his own kind, to live the life that the original Loque'eque had wanted when they originally created the virus to transform others.

She taught Jon the words to say to Seth; Jon had told her that he had named the baby. Her child, their child, had a name. She did not dwell on the fact that she didn't know the name of the last one, and never would. Instead, she focused on the child she had before her and the chance to know him now.

When she thought about it, the name was appropriate. Seth had been a second opportunity for Adam and Eve. He would be a second chance for the Loque'eque. Perhaps, he could be a second chance, a new beginning for her.

Walking away from Seth was the hardest thing she had ever done. It was almost like before, except this time her child had been conceived in love and given away in love. Her child from before had been conceived in pain and had been given away in pain. She wasn't as over her first child as she had thought, but perhaps someday she would be.

She heard footsteps behind her, Jon brushed past her, his eyes watery, his expression grim. She felt a stab of pain for him, for what was happening to them, and to how she had treated him this last year.

Perhaps she should share her secret with him? Maybe then he would stop beating himself up over what had happened while they were Loque'eque. Maybe, by sharing her pain and her experience, she could help him let go of this child and move on with his future, with their future. Knowing how he felt about her, maybe someday there would be another child, one that they could keep this time.

She knew Jon well enough to know that while he would be furious over what had happened to her, he wouldn't feel anything but love and compassion for her, although a small, irrational, part of her wondered if he would act the white knight, toss off their mission, take Enterprise to Alpha Centauri, and execute his own justice. She smiled at the thought and dismissed it as quickly as it had come.

But would he still welcome her? He had tried numerous times to get her to open up and she had done nothing but shut him out. She had seen right past the façade he had constructed and knew that she was the cause of much of his pain and anger.

Was it too late?

Day 370

Inhaling, she rang the chime. The door whooshed open. "Sir…" she faltered. His eyes looked as hollow as she felt. It was obvious he hadn't been sleeping well either since breaking orbit.

Swallowing, she began again. "Jon, I'm ready to talk, if it's not too late. There's something I need to tell you."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, he took her hand and she let him keep it.

The door closed behind her.

The end.


End file.
